


Bittersweet Wings

by AnnaWang



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: AU, Angels, Angst, Mental Instability, Religious Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 00:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6216259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaWang/pseuds/AnnaWang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because he was condemned to fight his family until the end of time, Michael teaches the mortal's how to fight the fallen, tears from cerulean blue eyes gently sliding down his face. </p>
<p>Slight ooc-Rin. angel!Rin Warning: Contains religious themes that may be offensive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fallen

Chapter One

_There was a time when demons did not exist. The beings on Earth watched over by their winged counterparts, known as the angels, were governed by the seven archangels, each controlling their own power to use for the good of the fragile lives modeled after the heavenly father. They were known as: Uriel of Earth, Gabriel of Water, Raphael of Fire, Samael of Time, Zerachiel the Light, Astaroth the Incarnator, Beelzebub the Life, and Azazel the Consoler. Yet still above them rested two others, names so sacred that not a soul dared to utter them. It was not until after the Holy War that the name Lucifer was revealed and replaced with the title Satan. As a symbol of the change five of the eight fallen changed their own names: Uriel to Amaimon, Gabriel to Egyn, Raphael to Iblis, Orifiel to Samael, and upon Satan deeming Zerachiel to be his ultimate commander, he bestowed upon him a great honor-his former name Lucifer. With God weakened from battle, the one Sacred Angel left in Heaven was left on his own to teach the mortals to battle. It was with tears streaming down his face that the three-winged one taught the humans how to kill his former brothers and sisters-and the Sacred One that once stood beside him on top of the hierarchy of the divine ones, his father, Satan._

 

The tremors began three months ago. Nobody knew what was causing it: none of the exorcists had time to find out, too busy fighting the demons pouring out of the cracks caused by the shaking of the ground. The sheer amount of coal tars was enough to kill any seasoned exorcist; by now, even those without temptaint could sense the pressure in the air and the lingering feeling that something was wrong. In order to stay alive, exorcists all over Japan flocked to the Order Headquarters to seek refuge inside the many demon barriers surrounding the building; and if the Headquarters were too full, a few desperate low class-exorcists traveled to the only other place with constantly strengthened barriers, True Cross Academy. Little did they know of the Great Battle taking place in Gehenna, a war so fierce that the incredible power radiating from within seeped into Assiah. It was that day that the last angel fell to Earth, surrounded with blazing white flame tinged with cerulean blue, covered in battle wounds. Even as he fell, he stared up at his beloved family, who he was condemned to fight until the end of time. Michael, the one who threw Satan from Heaven, smiled gently when he saw the symbols he taught the mortals, and, knowing that he would come to no harm among the fragile beings that He loved, retracted his three wings and let his black hair stream past his face as he cupped the rapidly retreating moon with the palm of his hand.

 

He did not feel the collision. Having borne the pain of countless battles, a simple fall was not even enough to register as an injury; he regretted, though, that on his way down he had disrupted the barriers keeping the demons out. Michael sighed amidst the pile of rubble, gently bringing himself to his feet with unparalleled grace. Casting his eyes around, he observed that he was in a large, circular room with three chairs set upon the second floor. The moonlight drifted in from the jagged space he had made in the arched ceiling of the space, minute coal tars peeking in with interest. Noticing crystal shards sticking out of his robe, Michael blinked, realizing that he had crashed into an object that had originally hung from the ceiling. He stepped over the mess he had created after neatly picking out the pieces of crystal, willing the Kurikara to disappear. “Where am I?”he murmured. He placed his hands behind his head, frowning at the hobgoblins already beginning to make their way into the room. As the kin of the one that formerly was known as Uriel, one of his closest brothers, he disliked putting them down. Letting a fraction of his aura suddenly slip out, Michael commanded in angel tongue, “Leave.” The crushing wave of demons froze, seeing flames flickering behind the commanding figure’s eyes, so much like their ruler. Still they hesitated. He frowned, re-summoning the kurikara. The scabbard was clad in a thin blanket of azure flames, giving way to the navy underneath; yet before he drew it, multiple gunshots rang out through the formerly still air, barely scraping Michael’s face. Ignoring the already healed scratch, he turned, regarding the crowd of exorcists gathered near the exit of the room. He smiled tenderly, vanishing the demon sword while taking a few small steps toward the people gathered. 

 

“Stop! Who the hell are you?” Michael’s lips once again lowered, sadly regarding the bemused expressions on each of the human’s faces. He understood; why would anybody crash through the ceiling of holy ground, unless he was a demon? Yet the building was protected with powerful demon barriers; it would be impossible for any demon to touch it. Michael held out his arms, letting his head fall back as he silently stretched out three impossibly soft wings from his back: two white, one ebony. Ignoring the astonished expressions on the mortal’s faces, he bowed lightly at the waist with a grin, speaking in the dialect he immediately registered when the fragile beings spoke.  
“I am the one that directly serves under the Father; the one who taught mortals how to slay my former brothers and sisters so long ago; the last angel, Michael.”

 

Hello, everybody! I'm a new author on archiveofourown.org, having always written on fanfiction.net before this. I appreciate that you're taking your time to read my story, and I hope you'll enjoy it as well, and leave a comment!


	2. Identity

_White and raven feathers drifted, scattering like ashes around the two figures-one standing, sword placed under the other figure’s chin-remnants of the magnificent wings that had been torn out of the fallen’s back. If one looked closely, they would notice how alike the two looked, except for the different colored flames; the gasping fallen, kneeling, was covered in crackling blue, a symbol of the one who committed the ultimate sin._  


_“Lucifer...” the other spoke. “There is still time to go back.”_

_Spitting out a mouthful of blood, the condemned one looked up with hatred._

_“Who do you think I am?” He threw back his head and let out laughter laced with insanity, throat sliding against the blade with each breath. “I’ll die before I go back to that bastard._

_“You’d give up His blessing? Your powers?” At this, Lucifer’s grin just widened._

_“I’m not giving up my flames; in fact, they’ll get stronger. The thousands of those who rebelled will become my pawns,” Michael’s eyes widened as the ground, covered in ashes, was suddenly dyed crimson, falling away into an endless pit. “And we will never bow to those filthy creations that Father named humans!” With a growl, Lucifer fell back, disappearing into the darkness. Michael gasped, vision clouding with panic as he dropped to his knees and reached for the rapidly retreating hand. Around him, numerous angels pulled on the screaming fallen as they plummeted, sacrificing themselves to win the war. Michael kneeled, frozen, tears streaming down his face._

_“Father...”_

A series of knocks shook Michael out of his thoughts, reminding him of where he was. He sat on the floor within bars of sunlight that filtered in through the window, legs crossed. The entire room was white: the bed, walls and floor, and even the light. Michael sighed. Although it was true that he was a holy being, there was no need for the entire area to be colourless; it truly was hard on the eyes.

“Excuse me?” the voice called. Michael rose and glided towards the door, opening it to reveal the young man at the foremost portion of the crowd the night before. Two guns hung in their holsters wrapped around the exorcist jacket he was wearing, exclaiming his status. Michael blinked, noticing the uncanny resemblance he had to the human, albeit a pair of glasses perched on the other’s face.

“Yukio Okumura, sir.” The exorcist inclined his head, pushing up his glasses with one hand.

Michael smiled and shook his head, standing at one side to let the other enter the room. “No need to call me that.”

“Then, what should I call you?” Yukio made no move as Michael dropped to floor, eyes trained on the divine being’s face. Michael frowned. He had not yet thought of that; as the Sacred Angel, the name ‘Michael’ was strictly forbidden for use on light terms. As seen with the power magnification Zerachiel received once bestowed with the name Lucifer, names held tremendous power. The true name of an archangel could destroy a planet; even a false one held considerable power. He explained this to the young exorcist listening raptly to his every word.

“Therefore, I must receive a false identity. I trust the truth of what happened last night is known to only those who were present and the ones higher in the hierarchy, correct?” When receiving a nod of confirmation from the other, he continued.

“If it is not too much trouble, dear human, I will masquerade as your brother. The name ‘Rin Okumura’ will do. Oh, do not worry about the truth being revealed; I assure you that my acting skills are quite proficient.” He added upon seeing the crease in the other’s eyebrow. Michael closed his eyes as he quickly adjusted his hair length and height. The raven locks were now lightly caressing his nape, slightly haphazard to match the expression he set on his face.

“Yo, Yukio, how’s that?” ‘Rin’ grinned at the priceless expression on his ‘brother’s face.

“Good enough personality?” Yukio recomposed himself, folding his arms after pushing his glasses up his nose.

“I believe that will pass.” Rin nodded. He lit his fingertip on fire and frowned when his pearly teeth pushed past his lips, ears elongating as a tail danced behind him.

“It seems that when I sealed my angelic wings within Assiah, my holy traits are sealed. As kin of the angels who fell and now bear demonic traits, I seem to hold a few as well.” He summoned the Kurikara, unsheathing it and held it up to his face. “The colour of Father’s flames...”he breathed.

“Sir?” Rin willed his sword away, turning towards the one that spoke. Yukio Okumura gulped, nervous. “The reason I came to fetch you initially was not for a friendly chat, however welcoming that may be. The Grigori wishes to speak with you, as with many that witnesses last night’s events.” He extended a hand to the Sacred Angel, and spoke softly, “I will act as your brother in public, so please do not be offended at how I will treat you.” Rin grasped the human’s hand lightly in his, rising to his feet with unparalleled grace.

“Come on, moley four eyes! Quit telling me that stuff, don’t you think I know it already?” Yukio gaped, shocked at how easily Michael switched personalities. The corners of his mouth slowly lifted, the light reflecting off of his glasses. If he wanted to play that way... “No, you never listen to anything I tell you. Now, come with me; you don’t want to keep the crowd waiting.” Rin smiled gently, and took a few steps towards the exit. Slipping past Yukio, he paused.

“I have a request.”

“What is it?”

“Please inform Samael that I wish to speak with him.” Noticing Yukio’s confused glance, he realized that the other most likely had no idea who he was speaking about. Samael, of course, had changed his name after the war, however, he was certain that the demon would not give out his bestowed name so easily. Describing the fallen angel’s characteristics to the exorcist, he frowned at Yukio’s surprised expression.

“You wish to speak to Sir Pheles?”

“Is that what he goes by these days?” Rin nodded, deep in thought and stepped out into the hallway, sensing the aura of many gathered within the room he had collided into the day before.


	3. Gathering

_With his cry, trees uprooted, earth overturned, and seas parted. He wailed for the loss of his family, screamed from the loneliness. His father could not help him; he was alone. He had seen his family once more, only to find that they had changed beyond compare. When his last tear was spent, he descended to Earth to those weaker beings that led to the dissension of paradise in first place, and, with a bittersweet smile, he extended a hand._

 

Samael twirled in his chair, letting his legs dangle lazily. Anybody at a distance would assume that the Gehennian traitor had no worries, yet once one took a closer look, they would note that his forest-green eyes were unusually vacant. He crossed his legs, absentmindedly placing his intertwined hands beneath his chin.  
Mephisto Pheles was very much aware of the war; how could he not, with the two opposing sides of his family being the only ones fighting? Thus, it worried him to feel a sudden burst of power-angelic power of all things-break into Assiah. Unfortunately, the Vatican just had to summon him when he was leaving to investigate. His eyes narrowed dangerously as the tips of his lips curled in an almost feral way, revealing deceptively innocent incisors. Oh, yes, this meeting better be interesting. 

 

Rin stepped into the hushed room, arms held leisurely behind his head. Eyes conspicuously studying each of the exorcists, he let his arms fall to his sides as he lifted the corners of his lips, exposing glinting incisors. Still in his alternate form, Rin swaggered into the center of the room, nonchalantly picking at his teeth.  


“Yo.”

The silence that descended upon the exorcists when Rin entered the room instantly shattered when an sword-wielding exorcist with long, blond hair stared condescendingly at the ‘teen.’

“This is the angel? Why, I am much more saintly than a simple teen. How dare you be so disrespectful, boy?” The smirk on Rin’s face was instantly wiped off to reveal an apathetic slate, as he tilted his head to the side.

“Disrespectful?” He smiled. “I was simply practicing, young one.”

“Practicing?” Narrowed eyes accompanied this inquiry.

“Indeed. It would not do for my name to be so easily revealed.”

 

Before the irate Paladin could reply, the murmurs of the Grigori shook him out of his fury, and he twisted around to look up at them in confusion. A scowl marred his features, and he spat out the name as he glared at the comically dressed character dangling from the railing of the balcony.

“Faust.”

Rin observed the demon, his eyebrows drawing closer together. He wasn’t surprised that the other appeared; after all, with his power-demonic power-he obviously could sense Michael’s flames appearing so suddenly on Assiah. Samael was once one of his closest brothers, and he could feel the curiosity simmering under that carefully constructed joker mask.

It had been several centuries.

Rin tilted his head when Samael’s eyes alit upon him, and he almost sighed in relief when he glimpsed the flicker of shock and recognition flare up behind widened eyes. Although the amount of time that had passed since they last met was not much to immortal beings, it was enough that memories would begin to blur. He offered the trickster an auspicious smile, but before he was able to step forward, the golden-haired exorcist whipped around and blocked him with one hand. “You will not move. I can't’ help but be angered that such a person like yourself could be a saint. You better prepare yourself.” Rin stared up at him, and blinked slowly.

“What was your name again?”

He lifted his chin with annoyance, and pronounced, “Arthur A. Angel.”

“Can’t you see I’m trying to talk to somebody here? Unless you’re trying be rude, move outta the way.” He felt contemplating eyes on him, and Rin looked up at the balcony, aqua eyes meeting emerald. Questions seemed to spill from those eyes, but he suddenly felt a tainted weapon hurtling towards him from behind. Rin ducked under the blade, and stood gracefully whereas Arthur’s eyes narrowed in frustration. He looked down at the crouching exorcist, speaking softly.

“You dare attack an angel of the Lord?” He summoned the Kurikara, letting it drop into his outstretched left hand. With precision, he drew the sword, cerulean flames flickering to life around him. Ignoring the wide eyes of the other, now kneeling before him, Rin bared his teeth.

“You contemptuous fool-”

“Enough!”

The flames vanished as he was shocked out of his reverie, and he slammed the blade back into its sheath with wide open eyes. What had came over him?  
A hand on his shoulder scattered the intrusive thoughts, and he lifted his head, meeting eyes with Samael. The cocky grin sitting on the demon’s face caused his own lips to twitch slightly, and he lifted a hand, placing the tips of his splayed fingers on the other’s cheek.

“Samael.” The demon didn’t respond, choosing to instead study Rin’s youthful face.

“Where have you been? I haven’t seen you on the battlefield in more this lifetime and the last.” Silence descended on the room, and it occurred to Rin that everybody-including the paladin, still kneeling on the floor-was watching the interaction. Finally, the smirk fixed on Samael’s face faded, and and he took a step back.

“Are asking if I’ll help you, dear brother?” He snarled with sudden ferocity, “You gave up on my help the day you refused to fight on our side, even if I am not fighting for them anymore. How did you think I felt? _Did you even think about me?_ Dear me-it seems that you are unnecessarily sentimental. Eins, zwei, drei!”

The demon instantly vanished, and Rin closed his eyes. It was for the best; he had work to do.

The angel spread his transparent wings, and flashed out of the room.


End file.
